At last some genuine gala material: Royal Ballet’s Balanchine and Robbins reviewed

The OED defines ‘gala’ as ‘a festive occasion’. In the ballet world this usually translates as a handful of stars, a mile of tulle and more triple fouettés than you can shake a stick at. Most balletgoers could put a half-decent programme together in their sleep: a firecracker duet (Swan, black), the odd solo party piece (Swan, dying), a dash of romance (Romeo, Manon) and the dear old Don Q. pas de deux. After a year being drip-fed small-screen ballet, the prospect of a little bling and bravura generated a buzz of excitement around Dame Darcey Bussell’s charity gala. The Hall (Albert) was hired, sponsors were found, eight major companies (six ballet, two contemporary) were available and generous punters paid £240 a ticket expecting big names and greatest hits. They got precious little of either.

It was, of course, all in a very good cause, including eight local dance charities nominated by the participating companies. This meant that after each live number we were served a side order of video telling us what sterling work they were all doing plus fly-on-the-wall footage of people who can’t actually dance being encouraged to do so. No one doubts the benefits of community-dance initiatives — diversity, inclusivity and lashings of self-esteem — but it isn’t always an easy watch and often needs a big spoonful of sugar to render it palatable.

Scottish Ballet got matters off to a resolutely low-calorie start, twerking and grinding to Eine Kleine Nachtmusik in Sophie Laplane’s Dextera. Mozart is Teflon to all but the greatest dancemakers and supplementing the fine playing of the Royal Ballet Sinfonia with conga drums and maracas did nothing to help. Northern Ballet’s dancers were in infinitely better shape, but the fretful duet from Jonathan Watkins’s 1984 is hardly a party piece.